


Encounters Between Worlds

by Lancre_witch



Category: Discworld - Terry Pratchett, Legacy of Kain
Genre: Gen, more characters to be added as this continues
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-02
Updated: 2018-01-02
Packaged: 2019-02-27 07:07:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13243089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lancre_witch/pseuds/Lancre_witch
Summary: The multiverse contains many improbable things; a turtle ten thousand miles across, nine pillars hundreds of miles high, souls trapped in swords, and a demon trapped in a policeman’s mind. Most improbable of all, sometimes these things come together.[On hiatus]





	1. Prologue (The Monks Intervene)

**Author's Note:**

> While they do form a coherent story, most of the chapters can be read as standalone meetings, so this is a fic you can dip into if you're only interested in some of the characters. Contains spoilers for the Legacy of Kain series and some of the later Discworld books.

Let the eye of the mind drift through the depths of space, home in on a patch of movement against the interstellar night where Great A’Tuin, the world turtle, swims ponderously through the seas of space. On its back, the Discworld, and at its centre, the Hub surrounded by the Ramtop Mountains. Look closer, lower, to one of the many sunlit valleys amongst the icy peaks. This is where the History Monks live, but, for once, the cause for concern does not lie within the disc.

“Right, this is obviously a 358b, maybe c. What we need to do is go back to the crux.”

“Alright, where’s that?”

“Well, obviously it’s here.” The monk pointed to a purple patch in the Mandala, edged in icy blue. “Oh, no wait, it’s here. Oh, no, it’s – alright, I see your point.”

“Can’t we just prevent the raising of the Pillars in the first place? Rewrite history from there?”

“Are you daft? There’s not enough to make even half a world’s history from that.”

“Okay, we jump in at the paradox points and go from there.”

“Oh, you _want_ to trigger another crash?”

“I’ve got it. We remove the irritants from the timeline.”

“…What, all of them?”

“Okay, maybe not, but there must be someone willing to listen to reason.”

“You mean Raziel and Kain?”

“I see your point.”

“I still think it’s worth a try, but we can’t do it in the valley.”

“Why not?”

“Emperor Kain? Here? Really?”

“Lut-Tze’s still in Ankh-Morpork.”

“Excellent.”


	2. Kain Fought the Watch (and the Watch won)

Kain ran along the cobbled streets, unsure of where he was. The monks who had transported him to this place had not been expecting resistance. Only one had tried to stop him, and he had been out of the door before his body hit the ground. A broom was a ridiculous weapon anyway.

“Halt! Ankh-Morpork City Watch!”

The guard drew his sword – plain, and positively pitiful compared to the Reaver – and stepped towards him, still reciting his rights. Kain turned and grinned at the red headed watchman. At least he now knew where he where he was, but helpfulness and bravery wouldn’t save the boy. Kain brought the Reaver around in an arc and stared at it in confusion when it broke against the watchman’s blade.

*

Kain opened his eyes in a stone walled cell. His face felt like it had been hit with an iron bar. Had a human really managed to punch him out? Had the Reaver really been broken by a normal blade? He reached for his sword and found it was gone.

He forced himself to sit up, head spinning, and a cheerful voce hailed him. “Sorry about that, sir, but it was important we brought you in before anyone got hurt. Commander Vimes is waiting for you.”

“My sword,” he focused blearily on his stripes, “Captain?”

“It’s being repaired as we speak. Raziel filled us in on most of what’s happened, but you really ought to see the wizards.”

“Raziel is here?” He sprang from the bed and instantly regretted it.

“In Mister Vimes’ office,” Carrot answered patiently as he unlocked the cell door. Swallowing his nausea, Kain followed him upstairs.

*

Mister Vimes. The boy had said it like an honorific and now he had some idea why. Anger boiled in the man like a thunderstorm, and he could sense the demonic power in him from across the room. All this was secondary, however, to the small blue figure on the chair opposite.

“Raziel!”

The wraith looked up. “You look dreadful. Sit down before you fall.”

Kain was not in the habit of taking orders or showing weakness, but in this case he decided to make an exception. He sat and tried to concentrate on what Vimes was saying.

“I can’t say I approve of vampires and if it was up to me I’d arrest the whole bleeding lot of you, but Lu-Tze says it’s important and I’m inclined to trust him. Vorador’s in the city armoury repairing your damn sword. When he comes back, you’re going to take it to the university to get this sorted out. Captain Angua will take you there and if you’ve got any sense you won’t argue with her. Now, if you’ll excuse me…” he bent over his paperwork and started muttering about the Campaign for bloody Equal Heights. The interview, it seemed, was at an end.

*

Walking through the streets of Ankh-Morpork was an experience and not one Kain was eager to repeat. The city’s smog cast a haze over the sun as well as any of Nosgoth’s smoke stacks, the river stank to high heavens, and their escort was worrying in a way he couldn’t but his finger on. The university itself was some minor improvement, but the centuries had given him a healthy distrust of wizards, and he ran his eyes across the two groups of robed men warily. The ones in sequins and silly hats didn’t bother him, but the others looked like the saffron-bedecked monks who had brought them here. People tend to dislike those who have killed one of their own. It didn’t help that he was fairly certain one of them was the man he’d killed and next to him was-

“Moebius?”

“Indeed, Kain. Don’t bother reaching for your sword. We are, for once, working towards the same aim. Nosgoth is in peril-”

“Yes, I daresay you would like me to believe that, wouldn’t you?”

“Because it’s bloody true!” one of the men in saffron snapped. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done to the timeline? You” – he pointed at Raziel – “shouldn’t even exist! Your entire world is one very small step away from collapse because of you.”

“Now, now, Qu, it’s not his fault.”

“The hell it isn’t! I don’t mind bending the rules, Lu-Tze, you know that, but there are some things I just won’t do and working with _that_ is one of them.”

“You were willing to deal with Moebius,” Lu-Tze reminded him mildly, but Qu was not willing to stop a perfectly good rant. “And don’t even get me started on the Pillars. The fabric of time-space has been put through the wringer and who has to sort it out? That’s right, us.”

“Sounds to me,” said one of the wizards, who had been introduced as the Archancellor and was apparently in charge of the place, “that this is a case of cruel and unusual geography.”

There was a small scream and a red blur headed for the door, wrenched it open and carried on running.

“Rinncewind! Oh, could someone fetch him please?” Ponder Stibbons, the university’s long suffering token sane person asked.

“I’ll go. I don’t feel too welcome here at present.” With that, Raziel left the steadily growing argument.

Like many arguments amongst wizards, it had rapidly spread and diversified, and only a few factions retained some relevance to the original point. The Dean and Senior Wrangler in particular seemed to consider it and excellent time to once more go over the incident with the chandelier, but the two who were really going for it were Kain and Moebius.

“It does not matter to me that a handful more credulous fools have been seduced to your cause. Your god has already fallen upon my blade. Do you so wish to join it?”

“That creature can claim no further allegiance from me, and you shall find it is I who has joined their cause.”

“And what cause would that be?”

“Restoring Nosgoth, of course! Raziel’s sacrifice changed nothing. Corruption still festers in the withered land and nothing will change unless we purge it.”

“By ridding the land of vampires? Do you think me simple? Or do you merely believe the Hylden are less of a threat than I? Look into your pot of visions, time streamer, four hundred years after your own death. Even if I had spared them, they would not have been susceptible to your schemes.”

“I would be hard pressed to come up with any scheme if I got written out of history. The way things are going, the same may happen to the entire world. Have you ever heard of the Crash?”

For once, Kain was willing to listen to wise council. For once, Moebius was willing to give it.


	3. An Alcoholic Interlude

“Bel-Shamharoth?” Raziel asked.

“Yeah, or some similar bugger at any rate. Tentacles all over the place.” The wizard doodled a very loose approximation of the creature in spilled beer on the bar. “Not many people get out of the Dungeon Dimensions. S’pose that makes us the lucky ones.”

Raziel laughed bitterly and ordered another round of drinks. Rincewind had turned out to be pretty decent company once he’d stopped screaming, and anyone who could figure out how to get him drunk counted as a friend in his book. Raziel dropped a lit match in his shot of whisky and pulled down his cowl to consume the, er, spirit of the spirit.

“Does this creature manipulate the fates of men, send them to their deaths for its own twisted entertainment?”

“Nah, we’ve got gods for that. Whole bloody pantheon of the things.” Rincewind stopped suddenly and winced, expecting a retributionary thunderbolt from on high. When none came, he took another swig of his drink and started describing his many, often painful, run-ins with the Discworld’s deities.

Raziel settled back to listen. They had been trading stories for hours now, and it was almost a comfort to know that someone had it nearly as bad as him.


End file.
